


Remembering the Feel of Your Heartbeat

by icedragon822



Category: Code Name Verity - Elizabeth Wein
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6501037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedragon822/pseuds/icedragon822
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An imagining of what happened the morning after Julie cried herself to sleep in Maddie's arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembering the Feel of Your Heartbeat

Whenever I think about Julie, I always go back to the night in the Cottage, the night that changed everything. The night I first flew to France. The night that Julie was nearly strangled to death on the job. The night that she told me her secret. The night that she cried herself to sleep in my arms.

I had wanted to comfort her that night, to stroke her hair and kiss her cheeks and tell her it would all turn out right in the end, even though we both knew it wouldn’t. But I was so dead tired, after it all… the flight and her confession and sadness and the fear. All I could do was place my arms around her, careful not to put too much pressure on the fresh bruises around her neck and shoulders, even though I wanted nothing but to hug her tight against me, to let her know that she was safe. I remember falling asleep to the sound of her quiet sobs, and the feeling of her tears slick against my neck as she burrowed herself against me and cried and cried and cried. 

It was Julie who woke me in the morning, with the gentle brush of her knuckles stroking my cheek. We were facing each other in bed, our noses only inches away from one another. She was wearing a rare expression; sometimes I thought I was the only one who ever got to see it. It wasn’t Queenie’s expression, or Scottie’s expression, and especially not Eva Seiler’s expression. It wasn’t even Julie’s expression, at least not the bold, daft, fearless Julie that she presented to the world. It was MY Julie’s expression- soft, sweet, perhaps a bit sad, but utterly full of love. She smiled slightly as I cupped her face in my hands, using the pads of my thumbs to wipe away the crust that the dried tears had left on her cheeks and around her eyes. She placed one of her hands on mine and brought it to her mouth, where she kissed my palm before bringing my hand to her chest to place it on her heart. The neck of her WAAF-issued men’s pajamas was slightly open, so that my hand rested on her bare skin. I tried not to think of the bruises that were only inches above my hand, but instead focused on the here-ness and now-ness of us… of her warm skin beneath mine, of her heart beating in her chest. My own pulse quickened in response, and I felt the familiar flurry in my belly of nerves and love. 

“No more tears, yeah?” I whispered softly. “I made a promise to deliver you only in the best of moods.”

Julie smiled again. “When I’m with you, I’m only in the best of moods.” 

She shifted a bit in the bed. “Here, roll over on your back. I want to listen yours now.”

“My what?”

“Your heartbeat. I just want to make certain that you’re here.” 

If it had been any other time, I would have laughed at her and gently thumped her on the head, saying “Of COURSE I’m here, you silly!” 

But instead I rolled over onto my back and settled her against my chest. She pressed herself against me, her head nestled slightly above my left breast, her index finger resting softly in the hollow of my throat, our bare feet tangled together. Her foot slowly stroked one of mine. I wondered if she could hear my heartbeat quicken. It was an intimate moment, but with Julie, it felt right. I was never uncomfortable with her. 

I stroked her hair for a few moments, and I felt myself becoming relaxed, reaching the hazy point of sleep again…

Julie’s voice jolted me back into consciousness. 

“Sometimes, I wish that when we left here, you wouldn’t take me back. I wish we could fly away, far away, to somewhere where the war couldn’t touch us.”

I placed a kiss on her head. “And what would we do there?”

“We would live on a farm, surrounded by the greenest of green hills. You would have your motorbike, and we would spend the days riding through the hills, you driving the bike and me with my arms tight ‘round your waist. Maybe you would even teach me to drive it. We would eat steak and ale pie and baked apples with cream, and dance the foxtrot like we used to at the Maidsend hops. And every night we would crawl in bed like this and fall asleep in each other’s arms. We could live like a married couple, because there would be no one there to tell us that we can’t. We could grow old together. I wouldn’t even be afraid of growing old anymore, because I’d be doing it with you.” 

I felt a lump grow in my throat, and I couldn’t speak. Her vision was exactly what I wanted, what I had dreamed of for months. So I did the only thing that I could think of, which was to kiss her on the mouth.

It was only our third kiss, despite the countless times that we both had wanted to kiss more. 

The first was in a dark corner at Maidsend, after Julie taught me how to dance. I don’t know what came over me then… I’d never kissed anyone before, not even a boy. We were giggling like mad after I had tripped over her feet yet again, and I just leaned in pecked her on the lips. For a moment I thought that I had done something wrong, felt prepared to back away and run back into the hall. But then I saw her face. She was beaming- I’ve never seen a smile so big. She grabbed my hand and led us to a secluded spot, and taught me all I ever needed to know about kissing… the feeling of her sweet breath on my face, her tongue rubbing against mine in my mouth, her teeth on my lips, her hands in my hair, on my back, on my breasts, my hands running up and down her back. It was glorious. 

The second was in my bed at home in Stockport, during the three days that we both had leave at the same time. We spent the day tearing around the Pennines on my motorbike, and the night exploring each other’s bodies. I should have been scandalized, doing such a thing with my Gran and Grandad only a few rooms away. But nothing had ever felt so right. 

For all of the other times that I had wanted to kiss her, there had never been the chance. We didn’t see each other near enough. And when we did, there were too many people nearby, not enough time, too great a chance of being caught. But I didn’t care now. THIS was what I wanted. 

Julie deepened the kiss, and we lay in bed and kissed for a while, not caring who could have walked in on us. We could have kissed for five minutes or five hours; I didn’t keep track of the time. It was an utter disappointment when my alarm rang, alerting us that we only had a short amount of time before we needed to be off again. Julie placed one last kiss on my lips, ran her hands through my hair one last time, barely brushed her fingers across one breast through my shirt. 

I leaned over and switched on the light, preparing to get my things ready for our imminent departure.

“Wait,” Julie said suddenly. “Stay just like that.”

“Like what?” I asked. I tried to avoid looking at the bruises marring her beautiful skin. I felt guilty; I had forgotten all of my attempts to be gentle.

“Just stand there. I want to remember how you look right now. That’s all I’ve been doing- capturing the memories. Of how you smell. Of how your hands feel against my face. Of how you look when you're young and haven't gone wrinkly yet. But mostly the way your heart sounds.” Her voice caught slightly. “After last night, I realized that as much as I want to grow old with you, to see your hair go gray and your face go wrinkly and your beautiful breasts get saggy, that… that I may not get the chance. I want to remember you here and now. I want to remember last night and this morning.” 

Suddenly I felt like blubbing again. She was right, and I knew it. We went to war; not much good happens when you go to war. I didn’t know how much time we had left together. We could have fifty years left to look forward to. Or his could be our last few moments with one another. I closed my eyes and tried to remember, too. The gleam of gold in her hair when the light shone on it. Her loud, infectious laugh. Sharing a cigarette in a bomb shelter. The way her lips felt against mine. But mostly the way her heartbeat felt beneath my hand. As long as I could feel her heartbeat, even in my memory, a part of her would always be alive.


End file.
